A Boy and His Dragon

by Michael J. Bowler

  For his part, he wished she could stay with him all the time. They had so much in common, not the least of which was their mutual passion for “Dark Shadows,” which they discussed every chance they got. He so enjoyed her company that when she left him to make her rounds he felt empty and alone.

  It was during these intervals of solitude that he realized he had to get out of that hospital if he was ever to locate Whilly. But how? That grungy old police lieutenant had a cop standing guard over his room until “the case was cleared up,” as he’d put it to Sarah, and of course Rosenbloom would never let him go anyway.

  He had to do something. He just didn’t know what.

  CHAPTER 17

  “The Riddle”

  That night, Bradley Wallace dreamed of Whilly for the first time since the shooting, a dream that terrified him. He saw the dragon, deathly pale and lifeless, sprawled lengthwise in some dark, insubstantial place, breathing smooth and fire-less, but shallow and very weak. The boy struggled to make out the dragon’s location, but everything seemed hidden by a thick, fog-like blackness. Then Whilly’s faint entreaty entered his mind, “Bradley Wallace, why have you abandoned me?” and the desperate boy fought vainly to tell his friend that he hadn’t forgotten him, that he was trying to find him, that he loved him. But no words came, no message received. And then the image faded, and he cried out in anguish.

  But then a new face appeared before him, floating tantalizingly before his eyes, and his heart leapt.

  Josette! She could help, she’d know where Whilly was, he felt certain.

  “I haven’t much time, Assistant Good Humor Man,” she spoke hurriedly, as though someone was after her, “So listen carefully and don’t interrupt me with foolish questions,” adding snidely, “if that’s possible for you.”

  Yes, the boy realized joyfully, it was definitely her.

  “Whilly is in desperate trouble and only you can save him,” the girl continued quickly. “Those who are with him don’t understand what he is about, and even though they are trying to help him, he will die unless you get there.”

  “No!” Bradley Wallace cried aloud fearfully. It couldn’t be possible. “But I’m getting so much stronger every day! How can he be dying?”

  “I told you not to ask foolish questions,” she snapped, adding

  almost as an afterthought, “although that one wasn’t too foolish. As Whilly grows weaker, you grow stronger. It’s the nature of magic. You take from one thing to use on another. Whilly’s powers and abilities are becoming part of you now. Everything that he is you are becoming. But that’s only temporary. Once he actually dies . . . “

  She didn’t finish the sentence, and Bradley Wallace could see that its conclusion frightened her. Could it be that maybe she sort of liked him after all? Of course, he might never live to find out. If Whilly died, so would he.

  “Where is he?” the desperate boy demanded.

  “I don’t know,” the pretty young girl replied with obvious confusion. “All I can see are cages, and this strange object.”

  She placed an image in his mind of what appeared to be a plastic elephant with an extended, serrated trunk.

  “I don’t understand,” Bradley Wallace cried out in frustration. “What does it mean?”

  “I already told you, I don’t know,” the girl replied in annoyance. “Don’t you think I’d tell you if I did?”

  Bradley Wallace suddenly realized that she was afraid, and simply didn’t want to show it.

  “Your world is still too foreign to me,” the girl went on quickly, glancing nervously back over her shoulder. “But you must solve this riddle or Whilly will surely die. And if he does, all hope dies with him.”

  And then suddenly he could see through her as she began to fade, becoming gossamer and ethereal as he struggled to reach out to her. “No!” he shouted to her disappearing form, “Don’t go! I need your help!”

  But the shimmering image vanished into the blackness, and Bradley Wallace stood shivering and alone. And then her voice drifted out of the darkness ahead as though from eons past, light and velvety, “Good luck, Bradley Wallace Murphy.”

  And then the boy awoke, bathed in a cold, deeply chilling sweat, desperately afraid. He knew this had been no ordinary dream. As on the

  night of the shooting, this one was real, and it wasn’t a trap. He felt certain of that. He had to solve the mysterious riddle, and soon.

  Or Whilly would die. And so would he.

  That night John Wagner awoke from an equally terrifying dream, a dream more vivid in its clarity and message than any he’d had previously. Like that of Bradley Wallace, it was a dream which could not be ignored or forgotten, because too much was at stake. He lay awake the remainder of the night reflecting fearfully back on all the strange events and unfathomable experiences he’d had over the past year, and on this latest bewildering dream. None of it made sense, and yet deep down he knew it did. But why him? How could he believe what . . . he . . . seemed to be saying? John knew deep down that there had to be a mistake, because he was worthless. He was a bad kid and he knew it. Everybody knew it. He simply didn’t deserve to be part of something so amazing. And yet, when the first grey streaks of dawn slipped inevitably through the folds of his bedroom drapes, John knew what he had to do.

  Bradley Wallace also didn’t sleep the remainder of that night, pacing restlessly around his hospital room running over and over in his mind all that Josette had told him.

  He knew the nurse’s schedule perfectly by now, and so always managed to be back in bed feigning sleep each time she poked her head through the door. Then he’d be up in a flash, continuing his restless pacing, feeling as though the dawn would never come, still unable to decipher the strange riddle.

  He really didn’t understand why he became more like Whilly as the dragon’s own life slipped away, but that part didn’t really matter. What mattered was his friend’s location. Cages and a plastic elephant? The worst thing about those clues was the frustrating tingling in the back of his mind that told him he should know what they meant.

  When morning finally did arrive, he was practically hopping with unreleased energy and frustration. He refused to eat the breakfast Sarah brought in to him, and wouldn’t tell her what was troubling him so deeply.

  He seemed so wired she at first feared he might have gotten into some kind of drugs.

  He wanted to tell her about the dream, but knew she couldn’t help him and didn’t want to lose what belief she’d already put in him by adding more craziness to his story. She still had too many doubts. Her hurt expression disturbed him, however, and he tried to smile and explain away his moodiness as lack of a good night’s sleep. When she commented that the night nurse said he’d been sound asleep each time she looked in, he shrugged and said he pretended a lot so she wouldn’t give him another pill.

  For some reason he didn’t understand, another result of the dream was a fear of any kind of artificial medication. He knew that in his ever-increasing dragonish state, the drugs could kill him. Just as they were killing Whilly. Had he known these things before, or had Josette planted the knowledge in his mind during the night? He wasn’t sure, but needed more time alone to decide what to do. He thanked Sarah for the food and promised to try and eat some of it later.

  She smiled and tousled his hair affectionately, telling him to try and not worry about everything so much. She had a feeling it would all work out. She left then, warning him that Rosenbloom was on the warpath this morning and to watch out. He forced a smile to his lips as she slipped from the room.

  Alone again, Bradley Wallace threw back the stifling bedcovers and practically leapt from the bed to the floor. He felt itchy with energy, like a time bomb ticking away toward its inevitable explosion. He resumed his frustrated pacing again before pausing to gaze out the window at the bright, sunny April morning.

  The flower gardens below, which only two days before had been devoid even of buds, had now sprung fully into a rainbow of color. Curiou
s, he thought, that flowers could bloom so quickly. Just like Mr. O’Conner’s house, that voice in his subconscious mind told him. Life from death. What did it mean?

  Oh, if only he could figure out that stupid plastic elephant! That was the key to everything, he knew. Key. He turned from the window

  quickly, his mind clicking furiously with an elusive, intractable memory buried so deeply that he couldn’t get hold of it. Damn! If only he could remember.

  He continued his agitated pacing, the word “key” playing over and over in his rapidly spinning brain. Still the answer eluded him. Crazed beyond his ability to endure further, and nearly bursting with power, Bradley Wallace angrily snatched up his pillow from the bed and reared back to hurl it at the closed door.

  But the door opened, then, and in stepped John Wagner.

  Bradley Wallace stopped, his arm poised in midair, and stared in shock as the older boy hesitantly eased the door shut and stood facing him uncertainly.

  “You!” Bradley Wallace exclaimed in surprise.

  Wagner was the last person he expected to see here, and his initial reaction was increased anger and a vehement desire to shove the pillow he held right down the bastard’s throat. But suddenly, the past year fell into place, and a closed door of realization flew open in his mind. He lowered the pillow slowly, nodding knowingly.

  “Of course,” he said quietly, as much to himself as to Wagner. “You’ve known all along, haven’t you?”

  “Known what?” John asked, fighting to keep his voice strong and controlled. But the old self-assurance was gone.

  “About Whilly,” Bradley Wallace answered, never more certain of anything in his life. That’s why he’d had the feeling for so long that Wagner knew more than he was admitting.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Murphy,” Wagner persisted, but was unable to meet Bradley Wallace’s penetrating gaze.

  But Bradley Wallace knew the truth now, and a burning, out-of-control anger swept over him like a massive tidal wave. “Yes you do, you bastard,” he spit viciously, his breath almost animal like in its raspiness. “I’ve been in this place for over a week trying to make everyone believe me, and you’ve known the truth all along and could’ve backed me up.

  Whilly’s dying and I could’ve been outta here looking for him! I’m gonna beat the crap outta you!”

  Wild with rage, he grabbed John’s shirt in an iron grip and shoved the other boy hard against the wall, pinning him there with dragon-strength. “If Whilly dies it’ll be your fault!”

  “I really didn’t know anything, Murphy,” John protested, barely able to squirm beneath Bradley Wallace’s superhuman grip. And then the tears finally came in a flood. John broke completely, all the fears and hurts of his life spilling onto the floor at Bradley Wallace’s bare feet.

  Bradley Wallace wanted to feel compassion, knew he should feel it, but couldn’t. He released his hold and stood watching the sobbing boy with more surprise than anything else. He’d never thought Wagner had enough feeling in him to cry.

  “I was afraid,” Wagner finally admitted out loud. “I just kept seeing things in my head that I didn’t understand. And I had dreams, terrible dreams, about you and someone else. But I never saw who it was. And a voice kept talking to me, telling me things about you and me, and I just didn’t know what was happening. I thought maybe you put some kind of hex on me or something. And then I thought I was going crazy. But I never knew anything for sure. I was afraid. And I’ve never been afraid before.” His steely grey eyes pleaded for understanding and acceptance.

  Bradley Wallace finally began to comprehend all that Whilly used to tell him about Wagner, about how the other boy was afraid to be himself, how he needed to affect a tough facade to cover up his hurt. As he gazed steadily at the sniffling boy before him, Bradley Wallace suddenly thought how small and helpless Wagner looked, almost like a child, and not at all the threatening bully he’d always seemed to be.

  “You’ve been afraid,” Bradley Wallace spoke knowingly, “And you’ve been hurt. Ever since your father left you - your whole life. I know, because Whilly tried to tell me. But I wouldn’t listen. I hated you too much. And you hated me because I was different, always myself, and you were too afraid to be yourself. Whilly told me. He was right, wasn’t he?”

  John nodded, casting his eyes to the floor in shame. “That’s what

  the voice kept telling me, over and over again until I hated you even more. I knew it was true, but I was afraid to lose control. I just couldn’t admit . . . it doesn’t matter now. Hell, I was even afraid to cry. ”

  Bradley Wallace’s eyes went blank as he recalled Whilly’s words so long ago, and spoke them aloud. “Don’t ever be afraid to cry. It’s natural. Whilly told me that, too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wagner continued, “But I just couldn’t tell them about you when I really didn’t know nothing. I never saw anything, and they’d just have thought I was nuts, too. Maybe I am.”

  “No you’re not, because I’m not,” Bradley Wallace stated with conviction. It was just like Sarah said, as long as he believed, that was all that mattered.

  “But how do I know that?” John pleaded uncertainly. “Even when I saw you that day at the Golden Gate Bridge, you were there alone. I didn’t actually see the . . . well, him!“ He trailed off, unable to even say the word “dragon” aloud. It was just too fantastic. Too good to be happening to him.

  Bradley Wallace’s eyebrows shot up. “You saw me that day?”

  John nodded. “I don’t know how, but I knew exactly where you were.”

  “You saw what I did and you still didn’t come here and tell them?” Bradley Wallace’s anger flared again, reaching dangerously animal-like proportions.

  “I didn’t see you do anything, don’t you understand that?” John exclaimed, his frustration mounting. “All I saw was the bridge stop and the wind stop and you standing there, dammit!”

  “Then why did you even think I had anything to do with it?”

  John looked back down at the floor. “I felt it.”

  Bradley Wallace nodded. “That was Whilly’s doing, I’m sure.”

  Then John asked the question he’d wanted to ask for so long. “Is he real?” His eyes were pleading, and he desperately needed an answer.

  Bradley Wallace nodded again. “Yes,” he affirmed staunchly, “He’s real.”

  John was still troubled. He had doubts. Couldn’t Murphy just be

  crazy, too? “But how can I believe in something I’ve never seen?”

  “Trust your heart,” Bradley Wallace answered with a shrug.

  But he could see the lingering uncertainty flickering across Wagner’s eyes like reflections of a candle flame, and he realized that John had never believed in anyone or anything his entire life. It wouldn’t be easy to convince him. And then Bradley Wallace saw something else in those steel-grey eyes.

  “You had a dream last night, too,” he blurted out suddenly, catching John off-guard. “That’s why you came here.”

  John nodded in surprise, swiping at the tears still on his cheeks and fighting to regain some of the control he’d always prided himself on possessing. “I didn’t know what the dream meant, but it looked like he was in trouble. I had to warn you.”

  Bradley Wallace gripped him hard by the shoulders, his green eyes burning with renewed hope. “What did you see? You must’ve gotten a clue to where he is, something!”

  John winced in pain. “You’re hurting me,” he murmured, and it took more courage for him to admit that than anything else he’d spoken this day. Bradley Wallace quickly pulled his hands away, amazed and frightened by the strength they obviously contained.

  “I’m sorry,” he offered, quickly explaining to Wagner all that Josette had told him in the dream. He still wasn’t entirely sure the other boy could be trusted, but he needed an ally and Wagner seemed to know more than anyone else. Besides, they needed each other. John was amazed at the notion of Bradley Wallace becoming dragonl
ike, and a little nervous. He found himself inching slightly away from the other boy.

  “What did you see in your dream?” Bradley Wallace asked again, glancing fearfully at the door. Someone could walk in at any minute. And there wasn’t much time.

  “I don’t know,” John struggled to sort out the remembered images. He moved away from Bradley Wallace to stare out the windows at the brilliantly colored flowerbeds below. “I saw a lot of cages, and other animals.”

  “What kind of animals?” Bradley Wallace hurried to his side.

  John shook his head in confusion. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I could swear on a stack of Bibles I saw giraffes.”

  And then Bradley Wallace knew. It was so simple. “The zoo!” he shouted so loudly he feared someone might come in to check on him. When no one did, he lowered his voice and explained himself to John. “That plastic elephant Josette showed me – it’s one of those zoo storybook keys you use to play the recordings about the animals. John, he’s at the San Francisco Zoo!”

  Without awaiting a response, Bradley Wallace dashed to his closet and flung open the door. It was empty. “Damn!” he swore loudly. “They took my clothes!”

  “What are you going to do?” John asked, moving anxiously to his side.

  “I’m going to save Whilly, that’s what I’m going to do,” Bradley Wallace told him flatly, turning to gaze intently at Wagner. “And you’re going to help me.”

  John immediately backed away. “I can’t. I mean, well goddammit, I’m still not sure . . .” Bradley Wallace’s dangerous expression caused John to leave the thought unfinished.

  “That I’m not crazy?” Bradley Wallace completed it for him, his body tensing with anger.